


Charity

by holidaygoth



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Comedy, Friends to Lovers, High School AU, M/M, Romance, kiku and gil just really want their friends to get together, one of those date auction things that are totally real and not just something i've seen on tv, spamano and ameripan are heavily implied
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-24 07:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17700272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holidaygoth/pseuds/holidaygoth
Summary: “We’ll start the bidding at $200: Dinner and a movie with Feliciano Vargas”Gossip Girl/Ouran High School Host Club inspired AU where everyone is filthy rich and Ludwig has a big fat crush on his Italian socialite friend.





	1. Chapter 1

“Did you even bother to clear this with administration?” Ludwig huffed, dragging a fork through his packed meal. Lunch breaks at the W Academy were generous, mainly due to the many students who insisted on having several course meals off-campus. Ludwig often questioned the efficiency of a 90-minute lunch, but on days like this, where the Newspaper Club could relax away from the bustle of the school, he appreciated them. Feliciano sat across from him and Kiku, ever hyperactive and tugging at the white cuffs of his uniform shirt.

 

“Lud! It’s for the cute doggies and kitty-cats! Lovi and Antonio need the money for new kennels and treats and stuff.” Feliciano sported a puppy-like pout, leaning over the table to get closer to his friend. 

 

“I know, I just--” Ludwig faltered, his face contorting. The admittedly adorable posters had been up for the better part of the week, advertising the event in question with pictures of innocent looking shelter animals. 

 

“I think what Ludwig means is that, well, wouldn’t it be much easier to, ah, pay out of pocket? I know Antonio is a scholarship student, but I cannot see why your brother wouldn’t pay for it…” Kiku clarified, looking to Ludwig for confirmation. 

 

“Big brother already tried, but Toni rejected him! He said he wanted to get the money honestly--I think he’s too proud to let Lovi throw his wallet around like that. Not to mention Lovi couldn’t do it anyway, Nonno took our premium card away last week…” The Italian rambled on, explaining how the visa was confiscated after a particularly embarrassing day at the Cartier store (he maintained that it was Lovino who had been closer to that display). “The worst part is that the paps caught big brother flipping them off.” He giggled childishly at the recollection. “Nonno says we’re ruining his reputation, but he doesn’t really mean it--we just won’t have big money for the next few weeks.”

 

“Besides,” he continued, “this way is much more fun! Francis is auctioning off a day at the museum and I think Gilbert is taking his lucky winner paintballing. Everybody wins!” 

 

“What are you up for Feliciano?” Kiku asked, casting a knowing look at the German next to him. Ludwig pretended not to notice.

 

“It’s dinner and a movie with me at  _ Buonissimo _ ! Buyer’s choice of course, but I hope we see that new one with the musical.” Feliciano explained.  _ Naturally,  _ Ludwig thought. As the grandson of celebrated actor and celebrity chef Roma Vargas, Feliciano and his brother never missed an opportunity to make an appearance at their family’s high-end restaurant on the east side of the city. “At first I was just going to offer up a dinner voucher, but Francis insisted that the theme of the auction is dates, and Gilbert said there would be lots of interest!”

 

Ludwig internally groaned, “Gilbert said that, did he?”

 

“You should auction off a date too Ludwig!” Feliciano continued, apparently oblivious. “Think about it: you’re tall, and you’re smart, and you have big muscles, and you know how to drive…” Ludwig went bright red at the compliments, unnoticed by Feliciano, who had managed to get a small dot of pasta sauce on his left cheek. “Not to say that you aren’t a catch as well Kiku! You could totally join,” he added assuredly. 

 

“Thank you, Feliciano, but I don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate that,” Kiku declined, a smile playing on his face. 

 

“Aha sorry Kiku!” Feliciano laughed, “You two are _ perfetto,  _ eh?” 

 

“ _ Hai, arigato.  _ We’re going to San Francisco over break to stay with his family. They offered to give me a tour of the corporate offices.” Kiku kept his typically calm demeanor, but there was definitely a smile in his eyes. 

 

“Say whaaaaaaat? And you didn’t tell us sooner?! Kiku! This is exactly why I said we needed to get together more!” Feliciano chattered. “What else are you two hiding? Ludwig?” he questioned, locking eyes with the German, “Any secrets you want to let me in on? Girlfriends you haven’t told me about?”

 

Ludwig glanced at the floor in sudden discomfort. “No. You know that” he huffed.

 

“So why not join the auction?”

 

Ludwig sighed. “I’m not really in the business of prostituting myself.” Feliciano feigned a gasp, cocking his head to the side in amusement. 

 

“Are you calling me a whore Ludwig?” The blonde sputtered, barring his mind from picturing such indecent things but feeling his face heat up all the same. 

 

“That’s not what I meant, I just- I, you know… Do what you want. I don’t think there would be much of a market for me anyways” he explained, before being cut off by the object of his embarrassment.

 

“I’m just messing with you Luddy,” he grinned, “but hey, don’t get yourself down! I would pay for a date with you any day.” He winked, collecting his silverware and clambering out of their booth.

 

Ludwig, now a pinker shade than before, gave a pointed look to Kiku, who looked wholly amused by the situation. 

 

“Sorry guys, I have to run! I told Francis I’d be there to help with refreshments 10 minutes ago, ahaa...” Feliciano went to toss out his napkins, shouldering his leather school bag. He came back to collect his coat, slinging his coat over his shoulder, but not before he leaned over and pressed a kiss into Ludwig’s cheek, his hand gripping his shoulder. 

 

“ _ Ciao  _ Ludwig, bye Kiku!” He laughed carelessly and made his way to the door before turning again to shout to them. “You guys have to stop by though! Support the animals! And there’ll be drinks and pastries!” Ludwig couldn’t help but watch as he stopped in the doorway, finally noticing the sauce on his cheek in the glass’s reflection. 

 

Kiku laughed, snapping Ludwig out of his concentration. 

 

“I’m sorry to say it, but you really are hopeless Ludwig,” he said, beginning to pack away his immaculately organized bento.

 

“I have no idea what you mean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first Hetalia fanfiction (yay?) after years of being a fandom lurker! I've decided to contribute because I love this series and it's very sad to hear that the fanbase has shrunk since I was a dorky anime nerd back in 2015.
> 
> This is an AU I've had in mind for a while so don't be afraid to ask questions about specific characters and other details!
> 
> pls comment because I have a very fragile ego! you can just do a keyboard smash if you don't know what to write, I'll keyboard smash back and we can speak in code.


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t know what you’re waiting for little bro, there won’t be many times in life when you can just pay your way into a first date.” Gilbert reclined in the back of the car, making a point to pester his younger sibling by tossing little pieces of paper and sandwich wrapper at the back of his head. 

 

“Cut it out,” Ludwig rebutted, keeping his gaze on the passing cars. “It doesn’t sit right…  _ buying him.  _ I’d feel like a creepy old man.”

 

“No, you wouldn’t, you just think Feliciano would,” Gilbert smirked, “and I’m telling you now, he totally wouldn’t. The poor kid has been throwing himself at you for the past few months and you don’t even register it--it’s like you enjoy being miserable.”

 

“I… I don’t enjoy being miserable, I’m just…  _ realistic.  _ He’s like that with everyone, even you Gil.” Ludwig admitted that there had been a time when he thought Feliciano might like him as more than a friend, what with the constant hanging off of him, and sharing lunches, and  _ verdammt _ the spontaneous kisses (on the cheek, of course). But he hadn’t  _ known  _ Feliciano back then, not really. As far as he was concerned Feliciano saw him as a friend and nothing more.  

 

“Besides, he’s not even… um… ahem…  _ you know,  _ he’s just affectionate, _ ”  _ he continued, clearing his throat when Gilbert failed to respond. His older brother just stared at him in the rear-view mirror, his eyebrows raised incredulously. 

 

“ _ Gay _ isn’t a forbidden word Ludwig, this isn’t the 1930s.” Gilbert finally said, apparently very amused. “I’m trying to help you here little bro, but  _ scheiße,  _ I think Feliciano could strip down for you and you’d be here telling me that’s just what Italians do with their schoolmates.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous”

 

“I’m just saying, if you don’t make a move on him,  _ I _ will. You’re not the only one who’s realized Feli is a complete catch.  _ Sheesh  _ the guy is a model--half of the fashion world is trying to get a piece of him.”

 

“Don’t--” Ludwig interrupted, earning him another knowing look from his brother. 

 

“Whatever broha, I can’t deal with watching you trip over yourself whenever he’s around. One day you’re going to seriously damage your awesome brother’s reputation.”

 

Before Ludwig could respond, he realized they were home, having pulled down his family’s estate driveway just moments before. Gilbert jumped out of the car, hanging over the door to look at his little brother again. 

 

“Look, just show up to the auction, bring your wallet, and think of it as supporting a great charity. If you happen to score a date with little Feli, then it happens,  _ ja _ ?”

 

This was exactly how Ludwig found himself dressed in his country club clothes, surrounded by his brother’s friends and desperately trying to find a way out of whatever debaucherous conversation they were having. His efforts were temporarily interrupted by Antonio, who had chosen that moment to drag Ludwig into their discussion. 

 

“I’m surprised to see you here Ludwig--not that I’m not happy you came,” the Spanish man said. Admittedly, Ludwig never really went to school functions, often choosing to stay home studying or catching up on the news. He hadn’t been to any of the school’s homecomings, despite protest from Gilbert and Feliciano. 

 

“I make time for charity events,” he stiffly replied, remembering why he was really there and wondering why Feliciano hadn’t made an appearance yet.

 

“ _ Si, si,”  _ a sarcastic voice interrupted, _ “ _ just so you’re not making time for  _ mio fratello _ potato bastard.”  

 

“Ehhh? Be nice Lovi! That doesn't even make sense. ” Antonio recovered, casting an apologetic look at Ludwig.

 

_ The evil twin finally speaks,  _ Ludwig thought. He nearly mistook the crasser of the Italian brothers for Feliciano himself, but he quickly recursed that judgment when he had been greeted with a bitter scowl.

 

“I think it’s adorable that Ludwig has a little crush,” Francis proclaimed between sips from a poorly disguised glass of wine. “I was starting to worry that you couldn’t feel love at all--the tragedy.” He turned to face Gilbert “Tell your little brother not to work so much Gil, it gets in the way of the finer things in life.”

 

Ludwig scowled when Gilbert laughed. 

 

“I try Francis, but Ludwig here doesn’t even think Feli likes men. Can you imagine?” 

 

“You really don’t read tabloids  _ mon pauvre allemand _ ?” The Frenchman looked amused, as if he was in on some hilarious joke that Ludwig just didn’t get. “I might just snap up little Feli myself,” he continued, his smile transforming into a pointed challenge. Ludwig elected to ignore him, pushing past his offender towards the spot where Kiku was standing across the room. As he made his way to his friend, he noticed an incriminating pin on the lapel of his suit, and shot Kiku a quizzical look.

 

“What happened to staying out of the auction?” he asked.

 

“Alfred here has made me into a pawn in his efforts to upstage Ivan tonight.” Kiku lamented, sighing. The American, who had just arrived with drinks, turned to Kiku in admonishment, adopting a look of parodied offense. 

 

“Don’t think of it like that babe! I just want to show everyone how much I like you, albeit through a good old-fashioned dick-measuring contest--”

 

“Alfred!” Kiku said, giving his date a pointed look. The American flashed back a shit-eating grin, continuing his spiel. 

 

“Especially when said dick is your  _ massive _ wallet and your opponent’s company  _ conveniently  _ released a very familiar looking high-performance tablet last week.” Alfred shot an accusing glance at his Russian classmate, who appeared to be conversing with a certain Yao Wang. “Not to mention his pal there… when I’m president we’ll be doing something about those foreign copyright laws.” Kiku placed a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder, looking at him with a mix of amusement and admiration. 

 

Ludwig occasionally wondered where Alfred got his massive ego; by all accounts, his father, the CEO of a large tech company, and his mother, a senior US Senator, were perfectly humble people. Even his younger brother Matthew was exceedingly polite and modest. Like most of the school, he had been shocked when Alfred got together with mild-mannered and antisocial Kiku, but the two of them seemed to fit together better than some of the world’s most tried and true compliments. 

 

Ludwig’s train of thought was lost when the tenor of their small group was disrupted by the very person he had been looking for all night.

 

“Kikuuuuu! Toni told me to come get you, we all need to sit at the auctionees’ table in front before uhh…” Feliciano trailed off, releasing his grip on Kiku’s wrist when he made eye contact with Ludwig. 

 

Ludwig felt himself go tense: Feliciano was dressed in a silky green slip dress, layered over a navy sweater. Ludwig wasn’t unfamiliar with Feliciano’s affinity for cross-dressing: there had been a handful of times where he had met the Italian in the school hallways, excitedly clad in the girl’s uniform--but this was different. The slip hung loosely on his chest, which was thankfully obscured by the sweater, but it cinched around his midsection, showing off the curve of his waist and…  _ other _ things that Ludwig wanted to avoid. 

 

Kiku, ever the talent at reading a room, grasped Alfred’s hand and whispered something in his ear. Alfred gave him a quizzical look before glancing at Ludwig, nodding his head in dazed agreement. Before he could say goodbye, the pair had vanished, leaving Ludwig alone with the man he was both desperate to talk to and wholly uncomfortable to be alone with. 

 

An awkward silence hung between them for several moments. Ludwig tried not to stare, his mouth uncharacteristically agape, trying to decide what to say. 

 

_ He looks great. good. beautiful.  _

 

“You look well.”

 

Feliciano's sheepish smile widened into one more fittingly genuine. “I’ll take it,” he laughed, placing a hand on Ludwig’s shoulder and making the German startlingly conscious of the shrinking space between them. “I didn’t know if I would see you tonight.”

 

“ _ Ja…  _ um… Gilbert strong-armed me.” 

 

_ How hard is it to say you came for him? _

 

Feliciano’s expression faltered briefly, before he let out a flat chuckle. “That’s--”

 

Ludwig cut him off before he could finish. “Not that I don’t want to be here, of course, I… I couldn’t say no to your invite,” he paused, “I interrupted you, sorry.”

 

“It was nothing, really.” The Italian glanced around the room before returning his amber gaze to Ludwig, grasping at his hand as if they were preparing to waltz. He was quiet for a second before opening his mouth again. “Ludwig… I, ah, I’m glad you made it.”

 

Ludwig desperately searched for something to say, but he was saved in the moment by none other than Francis Bonnefoy, who had chosen that moment to spring himself upon Feliciano and drape his arm over the Italian’s shoulder. Ludwig glared at the intruder, but Feliciano appeared not to mind the company. 

 

“What are we going to do with you Feli? We send you to round up all the volunteers and you become lost yourself.”

 

“Ahhhh, don’t be so mean Francis! I was on my way!” He wrenched himself out of the Frenchman’s grip just in time to look back at Ludwig, sporting his signature grin and shrugging apologetically. “I’ll be going now, I guess. See you later Ludwig?”

  
“ _ Ja _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a whole bunch of nothing and exposition (as well as a testament to my love affair with italics and describing eye movements). Trust me, I would love to be more efficient, but alas, I have no beta reader and love writing extraneous details. 
> 
> Anyways hopefully this chapter is good-ish? I really have no idea what I'm doing, so leave ur comments about what you liked/disliked and I'll know what to include more of!
> 
> P.S. The next chapter should be up before the month is over! I don't want to create an upload schedule because I'm terribly disorganized, but I will try to post a new chapter 2-3 times a month.


	3. Chapter 3

Feliciano and Francis pushed through the throngs of students and up to the platform on the stage, the Frenchman making a point to announce that they were coming through. The Italian found himself being pulled along, absorbing the chaos of the room around him. He had tried to mouth a goodbye to Ludwig, but by the time he had twisted around, his German friend had disappeared from the spot where they had stood. Francis began fussing over the podium and microphone, obviously getting frustrated with the setup, which Feliciano was doing little to help with. Kiku, who had already arrived, gave a small wave, and Feliciano hurriedly took his place next to him, glad he didn’t have to worry about destroying the stage before the night’s big event. 

 

“Are you nervous?” He asked, not waiting for a response. “I’m not, I suppose I should be, but this whole thing is just  _ eccitante  _ and new, and I’ve been having a really good time already. I just saw Ludwig actually and--you were there, sorry, ah...”

 

“I was. I thought it was best to give you two a bit of privacy though,” Kiku remarked. 

 

Feliciano laughed nervously “ _ Grazie,  _ Kiku, but I really don’t know,” he lamented, shifting in his chair. “I just act like such an  _ idiota  _ around him and he must think I’m too much of a vapid fool to date when he’s this big smart guy or whatever--and oh Kikuuu, can you please just tell me what you think of us?” The Italian gave a pleading look to his friend. “You’re so collected and good at sensing the room and reading people and all that. You must know how he feels!” Kiku’s eyes grazed the room knowingly before he returned to Feliciano, slowly beginning to reply. 

 

“I don’t believe it is my place to meddle in your business, but since you asked...” he paused, dragging on the end of his sentence. “I don’t think you need to worry about Ludwig not liking you. You’ve been friends for longer than I have, and he isn’t the type to put up with those he truly dislikes. I don’t want to speak out of turn, but he’s in a tough situation, with his family company and dealing with Gilbert and school. I think you need to feel this one out for yourself Feliciano, not to discourage you.”

 

Feliciano felt disappointed, but not entirely dejected by his friend’s advice, flashing his a quick grin of reassurance before turning to face the podium, where Francis had finally fixed the technical issues and was beginning to address the crowd. The blonde’s posture and demeanor lit up as he took the mic in his hand, starting off his spiel with a signature swoop of his arm. 

 

“ _ Bonjour  _ and attention to all of our guests tonight! The main event is about to begin, so to all of our potential bidders, please make sure you take a bidding paddle and find yourself a seat. While we straighten out all the last minute details, I am pleased to introduce our host and auctioneer for the night:  _ mon cher ami,  _ Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo!”

 

Antonio made his way out to the podium, waving cheerfully at the crowd and taking Francis’s place at the mic. He said his greetings and began to ramble about the charity and the animals, but Feliciano found himself only half listening, instead searching for the blonde head that he had left in the crowd. His eyes flitted past Alfred and Lukas and Basch (and the rest of the disproportionately blonde room), but it appeared that Ludwig had simply recused himself from existence. 

 

Finally giving up, the brunette sunk down in his seat, opting to play with the loose strings on the ribbon around his waist. The slip had been Francis’s idea, naturally _ ,  _ and Feliciano had to admit that it was a good one. The dark green satin shone under the stage lights and rippled when he moved. 

 

“You are absolutely  _ magnifique _ !” Francis had exclaimed, chorused by the dressing room assistants, and Feliciano broke out into a wide grin, never one to shy away from a compliment. “If Gilbert’s dorky brother doesn’t propose to you looking like this,  _ je ne sais quoi! _ ” 

 

Feliciano sighed, wondering where Ludwig had gotten off to once again and mulling over their earlier conversation. _ “You look well.” _ What did that even mean? He didn’t want to think about it. 

 

He watched with electrified interest as the auction began, cheering and laughing with the crowd as the refined event boiled down into the typical W Academy chaos. Francis became the first bachelor of the night to bid on himself, announcing that “self-love was the greatest charity of all.” When it became apparent that not even Ivan was willing to bid on someone else’s boyfriend, Alfred Jones notably bid over  _ himself,  _ successively offering $400, $1000, and finally $3000 for a day on Kiku’s family yacht. Antonio awkwardly did the auctioneering for himself, before dramatically recusing in the name of his love for Lovino, who had refused to put in a bid. 

 

Lost in the fervor of the evening, Feliciano was caught off guard when his own name was announced, fumbling with the glass he was holding before making his way over to Antonio, hiking up his dress out of nervous fear he would somehow trip over fabric that didn’t even reach his ankles. 

 

“Up next we have an all-expenses paid dinner at  _ Buonissimo  _ and a movie of your choosing with W Academy’s own Newspaper club photographer and part-time model: Feliciano Vargas!” Feliciano grinned widely at the crowd, although he was barely able to make out individual faces under the stage lights. 

 

“We’ll start the bidding at $200! Dinner and a movie with Feliciano Vargas!”

 

The bidding took off immediately, although Feliciano wasn’t sure if the hype was directed towards the meal pass or the date itself. 

 

“$400? We have $400 right there, I see you Elizabeta!”

 

“$650, alright Francis… does anyone have $700?”

 

Amidst the bidding war, Feliciano swayed on stage, both sheepish about the context of the situation and proud of the attention he was getting. Growing up under the close watch of tabloids, he had grown to enjoy the flash of a camera, and always made an effort to smile (just in case he ended up on a cover somewhere). His brother didn’t quite feel the same way, often choosing to berate paparazzi that came too close or asked the wrong questions. A few years back, it had become a family joke to cut out magazines where the brothers were misidentified and post them around the house, teasing Lovino about pictures where he was supposedly grinning, and Feliciano about shots of him flipping off the cameras. Once Feliciano had begun modeling, the media had mostly straightened out the differences, but there was still the occasional hilarious slip-up.

 

Back on the stage, Antonio was still dealing with a deluge of bids “Did I hear $1,500 in the back there? Yes, I did-- _ gracias  _ Mr. Braginsky!”

 

_ $1500, $1600, $2000, _ as the numbers went up, the self-assuredness Feliciano had proclaimed to Kiku diminished. Of course, he would be happy to spend a day with any of his generous schoolmates--yes, even Ivan--but he felt an overwhelming desire for the moment to end, wanting to escape the white glare of the lights and the loud cheers of the bidders. He tried not to let his smile falter, thinking again about Ludwig and  _ oh how stupido  _ he was to think that his showing up meant something more than it did or that he would even bother to bid on his date, even just as friends--even when Feliciano wanted more than that. 

 

Antonio chose that moment to place a steadying hand on Feliciano’s shoulder, providing a balance the Italian didn’t know he needed. His grateful smile stopped short when the Spaniard motioned for him to take the microphone, and Feliciano realized that Antonio wasn’t quite the savior he was looking for. 

 

“The bids don’t look like they’re slowing down! Feliciano,  _ amigo, _ why don’t you say something to our guests while we take down numbers?” Feliciano’s heart suddenly felt very heavy. He had never been the nervous or shy type, but with the mic now shoved into his palm and the expectant eyes of the crowd on him, he couldn’t find the right words. 

 

“Erm…  _ Ciao… ah _ ,  _ grazie _ \--thank you,” he stuttered, the mic pressing a little too close to his lips. The noise from just moments before had died down into isolated murmurs, allowing Feliciano to clear his mind. He tried to remember where he had left off--how long he had left the room hanging in silence, when he made eye contact with the one person he wished he could be alone with. Ludwig’s steely eyes had undue saturation in the dimly lit section of the room he stood in, looking just as surprised as Feliciano at the sudden connection. He wanted to leap off of that stupid stage and run to Ludwig like they were in one of his Nonno’s movies, but he found himself firmly planted on the stage, unable to react as a German-accented voice yelled out. 

 

“$5,000!”

 

Feliciano broke his gaze, turning towards the voice that undeniably had not come from Ludwig himself, who faced his older brother with a stoic expression. 

 

Gilbert smirked at his newfound fame before leaning into the audience mic, “Sold! To the handsome man with the awesome chicken-print tie,” he exclaimed, laughing at his own attempt at humor. 

  
  
  


“Wow… okay  _ amigos _ , that looks like that’ll be it for the bidding on this one!” Antonio said over the whoops and whistling aimed at Feliciano and Gilbert. “Give it up for Feliciano Vargas and Gilbert Beilschmidt!” Feliciano felt Francis take his hand, leading him down the steps towards Gilbert, who was caught up in a throng of excited students. Gilberts sent a sheepish wave their way, shimmying around a table before he reached the edge of the stage. 

 

Recovering from his disorientation, Feliciano stumbled into Gilbert’s arms, launching him into a friendly hug that the German readily returned. 

 

“I see you’ve gone with Plan B, Beilschmidt?” Francis jested.

 

“Unfortunately,” Gilbert replied, shifting his gaze to Feliciano. “We have a lot to talk about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's been so long! I've had the majority of this chapter written for weeks but there were just some awkward parts I couldn't seem to smooth out. Hopefully you guys like it! Please leave comments too, they're like fuel for me (once again, keyboard smashes are also very appreciated). 
> 
> Anyways how is you guys' March going? I'm waiting on college decisions which is super nerve-wracking but I am trying to stay as chill as possible (the writing definitely helps, so you can thank stress for giving you this chapter). 
> 
> See y'all next time!


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